


Just Dreaming

by ForcedSimile



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-11 22:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForcedSimile/pseuds/ForcedSimile
Summary: He no longer watched her just to solidify her as his totem back to reality, he was definitely feeling...something. He used her to try and escape a personal hell and only ended up putting himself in a new one. And he wasn’t sure he regretted it.





	1. Chapter 1

Parallel work was a part of their lives. They were the leaders. The adults. Coran was often in the engine room tinkering away. But Shiro was left working on the bridge with Allura so many times. And it was the sweetest torture. It didn’t start out that way, but that’s what it had become.

There wasn’t a single night that he didn’t deeply contemplate death. Part of it was the often vivid flashbacks to the arena, and he hated what he’d done because none of his actions reflected who he truly was, but he felt so out of control. And when they came, he tried to call on happier memories. But the ones he had from Earth felt so far away. He was here in space. He could only focus on something tangible, something he could feasibly hold, something that made space a good place even if it wasn’t safe. Except he ended up focusing on _someone_ and contact was impossible because her permission would not be granted.

Whenever they were together, he always sat just behind Allura. That way he could subtly craft a memory of her without her being aware of his eyes. When he felt himself slipping into a flashback, he’d breathe through his nose and try and recall details about her. First the broad strokes (What color is Allura’s hair? What color are her eyes? How tall is she?). Then more details (Do you remember the way her hands look when she’s working the database? Do you remember the way her hair looked after the mice played with it? Do you remember that time she kicked your ass in training?).

This exercise worked. But it had an unexpected side effect. What began as impersonal details, a way to ground himself, was becoming a form of maladaptive daydreaming. Because “What color is Allura’s hair?” became, “How would it feel to run your fingers through her curls?” and “Allura’s eyes are blue” became “Allura’s eyes sparkle when she smiles.” And he no longer watched her just to solidify her as his totem back to reality, he was definitely feeling… _something_ for her. He was afraid to name it, because whether it was lust or love, he was certain it was very inappropriate.

And yet he still gave into it.

Even then as he worked, the task at hand being tedious and boring, he used her as a crutch to get by. Her hands were positioned elegantly as she moved one screen to the side to focus on another.

_He holds her hand, his fingers entwine with hers. He runs his thumb over her knuckles. She puts her head on his shoulder._

She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

_He wonders if she is like some humans who like to be kissed behind their ears. He runs his hand down her neck and nuzzles her hair before brushing his lips where her jawline meets her neck. She sighs and leans against him._

Allura abruptly walked away from the console and paced around it, which broke his train of thought. She smiled at him briefly before she pressed her lips into a thin line.

_He traces her lips. They are so very soft and he doesn’t really intend to kiss her, but he just has to know what her lips felt like against his. And he doesn’t go any farther than just savor the near velvety feel of her lips for a while. But she is impatient and playfully runs the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip and suddenly he is introduced to the new sensation of what her mouth tastes like._

She got back to work and he traced her silhouette with his eyes, it was now a comfortable imprint on his mind. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the charts in front of him. But…

_His hands follow the line of her body. Her hips are easy to grab, and he can’t help but dig his fingers into them and pull her body flush against his, giving her an idea of what he wanted later. She wants to say something, but he nuzzles his nose against hers. His hands move to her waist and her arms wrap around his neck. She doesn’t move away, her breath is against his lips. He wonders how long he can hold out without wanting to carry her away. He can feel her heartbeat against his chest, and it’s making him dizzy. One hand slides up, to cradle the back of her head. The other hand slides down to cup her ass and hold her closer if possible._

She sighed and leaned on the console. And all he could do was notice the way her legs bent and all he could imagine was sliding his hands between her thighs. She slammed her fist and let out a grunt in frustration and he could only imagine other ways he could make her frustrated and all the sweet sounds she would make as a result. He closed his eyes. They were both killing themselves in different ways.

“Maybe you should rest,” he said. She turned to him, her brows furrowed more in exhaustion than anger. “It will clear your head.”

She stood straight and her shoulders relaxed.

“You’re right,” she said. She stretched and his mouth got dry. Every move was going to fuel more sweet and terrible daydreams. She came over to his seat and put her hand on his. His was getting a little light headed, but not the same way as when he was dissociating. It was warmer, and he had a sort of clarity. He was most certainly giddy. His eyes met hers.

“Good night, Shiro,” she said. He took a deep breath. He could survive this. Sort of. “You should turn in too.”

“I look that bad?” he said.

She giggled. “You never look bad.”

He heard her walk away and he knew his face was bright red. He used her to try and escape a personal hell and only ended up putting himself in a new one. And he wasn’t sure he regretted it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn't even safe from doubt in her own fantasies. And every look and word only served to make her more aware that she admired him. Loved him. Wanted him.

_“You never look bad.”_

Allura groaned and rolled her eyes. Had she actually said that? She vowed never to bring it up again and deny it if Shiro did. Or blame exhaustion. She just didn't want to think about how silly she sounded. She clenched the fist that touched Shiro's hand and held it to her chest. It took everything she had just to casually touch him. Why was her heart beating so fast?

“What am I, a school girl?” she said to herself. There was no reason such a simple touch should make her so excited.

But it did.

She returned to her room and leaned against her door before she slid to the floor. She honestly didn't want to sleep. She'd slept for ten millennia, she didn't want to sleep any more. But she knew it was in her best interests to try. She took off her suit, took down her hair. She showered and put on her pajamas. The mice crawled into bed alongside her. She hugged her pillow and closed her eyes.

She liked to imagine scenarios to help her relax and ease into sleep. She used to imagine talking to her father, but that had become much too painful. But Altea as a setting was still welcome and familiar. So she inserted the Paladins instead. It wasn't hard. She'd pick a place and pretend she was giving them a tour.

Keith was the hardest for her to imagine. His reactions in real life were so subdued, she had a hard time picturing things he'd like. So unless she was showing him speed bikes or climbing a mountain, she couldn't figure what he'd be excited about. Lance was a bit more fun. He seemed like he'd like parties, shows, sporting events, and shopping. She pictured him flirting with all the cute shop girls (and guys...and everyone in between, honestly). Hunk and Pidge were easiest to please, they could be occupied with libraries, food, sight seeing, museums, taking apart all their devices.

But it was Shiro she loved to imagine the most. Because in her mind, he was perfect for the Altean court. Whether he was or not, he would have to be part of it as the official leader of the Voltron force. Which meant he had to go through all the training she went through and then some. And she would gladly be his teacher. She had far more Shiro scenarios.

But tonight...tonight she wanted to create a scenario in which she'd touch Shiro's hand again. She closed her eyes. What would have them with the most contact? Dancing? No, as adorably awkward as she was sure he would be, that wasn't what she wanted. Plus there would be prying eyes, even in her dreams she couldn't escape them. Training they could do in reality. They could…

* * *

In her mind's eye, she looks out over the field of juniberry flowers. She and her father would spend so much time out there. She couldn't work up the nerve to go there alone. It hurt too much.

“Allura,” Shiro says. She turns, hoping to mask the pain, but it's there. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she lies. He stands beside her and tugs at his collar.

“You look good in court vestments,” she says.

“Well you said, I never look bad,” he says. She narrows her eyes and he laughs. “It's a little...brighter than I'd wear on my own.”

He leans on the balcony. Their shoulders brush.

“I don't think I've ever been out to that field,” he says. She stares down at it. It has been a while.

“Then we'll have what I think you call a picnic. Hunk has mentioned them quite a few times. They sound like fun,” she says.

“Is this just another way to force me to practice proper table etiquette?” Shiro asks with a smirk.

She puts her hands on her hips. “I wasn't thinking that, but it could be! It will be a more familiar and casual setting.”

“I walked into that one on my own...”

Now they were both laughing. They walk to the kitchen to pack a simple lunch. Their hands brush together as they walk side by side. She is blushing and hopes he doesn't notice. When they have their food basket and the blanket, she grabs his hand. It's only so she can lead him to the field. She doesn't want to look at him. It would spoil the moment.

The smell is familiar to her, but new to him. They spread the blanket on the ground. He is too distracted by the flowers to eat. She tries to get him to focus on the lesson, he isn't listening. She stops trying to force him to sit straight or hold his cup a certain way. She is distracted by him. He's breathing in the sweet scented air and his eyes close in a sort of rapture. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw are tempting. Not half so much as his lips are. But his ears...without thinking she reaches for them and he turns in surprise before she touches him. She is blushing furiously now.

“I'm sorry,” she says. He runs his hand through his hair.

“No, um...” he says. He doesn't know what to say to that. What does anyone say to that?

“Your ears are so cute,” she says. She wishes she hadn't said something so embarrassing.

“Cute?” he says. He tilts his head to one side.

“Not that _you're_ cute. I mean you _are_ attractive but...okay, ignore that! What I'm getting at is that your ears are so small and round and they're really...really...”

“Cute.”

She was tired of blushing. He was laughing now. That gave her some hope.

“You can touch them if you want,” he says. “You are the princess.”

“That doesn't mean—”

“I want you to.”

His tone is so different. His voice is soft and his smile is just as inviting. She “accidentally” touches his cheek before she runs her thumb along the curve of his ear. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. She giggles and moves closer. He puts an arm around her waist and she doesn't stop him. He opens his eyes and their gazes meet and…

She has to kiss him. It happens so fast neither of them can stop it, but next thing she knows is he's pinned on the ground and she's straddling his hips. She stops and pulls away. His hands are securely on her waist and he looks confused.

“I'm sorry,” she says. She's apologizing too much.

“For what?” he asks.

“I should have asked before I...”

He pulls her down to silence her with a kiss. He wants this as much as she does.

_Does he really?_

She tells the voice in her head to shut up, this is her fantasy leave her alone. She opens up his shirt collar to run her hand along the column of his neck. No, the whole shirt has to go. Together they manage to at least get his shirt open. Now his hands have moved to squeeze her thighs and she runs her hands all along his back, feeling the scars. They roll over. She nips at his neck, and feels him ready between her legs.

She stops. Everything stops.

* * *

She opened her eyes. Her heart was racing  and she felt strangely cold and alone .

“Would he even want me like that?” she whispered. Similarities aside, she was alien to him. Not every human was like Lance and had an affinity for falling in love with aliens. Allura rolled over on her back. She wasn't even safe from doubt in her own fantasies. And every look and word only served to make her more aware that she admired him. Loved him. Wanted him.

This lingering doubt came up whenever things would get too far in her little fantasies. It left her in a sort of hellish limbo. In reality, she could not be with Shiro because he did not want her. As a result, she had a hard time just enjoying the scenarios she created with him and she had no outlet for her feelings.

She had to find another way to go to sleep. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

_He puts a hand on her shoulder._

“ _Don’t fight this. Just let it happen,” he says._

They were only thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. She gave in. And she didn’t regret it.

**Author's Note:**

> Can it be called daydreaming if there's no day in the void of space?


End file.
